My, no, Alicia's, no, the Peace Corps' Bike

A few weeks ago one of my teachers came by with a donation request she wanted me to read. I went into proof-reading mode and tackle the letter. The letter is different from any other one I have read (her use of Sepedi grammar with English words is common) because it's about me.

The 12 year-old that stole my bike was running a bicycle chop-shop complete with associates in other villages so that stolen bikes are never found. The police never found mine and no one in the village has seen it either. Luckily, Alicia (a near-by volunteer) never uses hers and was happy to get it out of her room and give it to me. Because the Peace Corps bought the bikes, my old one and its replacement are exactly the same. The look-a-likes tricked a lot of people into thinking that the original bike was found.

My host parents are unhappy with the police for their commitment after the day that the bike was stolen. The police visited our house again only after they heard that my host father was unhappy with them. My host parents decided that I should get a new bike and called the teacher to help them. Together, they are trying to show their appreciation for me and what I'm supposed to be doing here. The teacher wrote the donning letter and took it to town to solicit donations.

I didn't know about the new bike plan until after she solicited businesses. When I found out, I explained that I don't really need a new bike. Alicia never wants to see the bike again. I asked if there is a better place to spend the donation money. After that discussion, I never heard about the donations again. I haven't seen any money either.

Above is a picture of me with the bike. The outfit is the same every day except a different t-shirt. I replaced the original intertubes with thorn-resistant tubes and I haven't had a flat tire in months; before I had a flat twice a week. I also up-graded the tire pump provided by the Peace Corps to one that actually works. You can't tell in the picture, but the pedals are bent funny from the rocks in the road and each rotation of the pedals causes a worrisome creaking and clatter. If this one falls apart maybe Becca (another neighboring volunteer) will give me her bike?